Biscuits
by Greywolf Lupous
Summary: Random thoughts for three different characters during the episode Incident at Black Pass
1. Default Chapter Title

"Biscuits"   
by Greywolf Lupous

  
  


_Disclaimer: _Rawhide _characters, situations, and, uh, the Rawhide-ish kinda stuff, belong to who? CBS, Viacom… I dunno. But they don't belong to me! Though at times I wish they did… but they don't… so, uh, don't sue me, kay? ^_^;;;_

_Spoilers: Some for "Incident at Black Pass"_

_Authors Notes: I wrote this (and it's sequels) during school. This one was written because... well, I was in Pre-Cal, and I wanted some biscuits. So uh, it's real short, has no plot, and the entire series is basically a companion to another piece I'm planning to write._   


Oh what I would do for one of Wishbone's biscuits right now. Dripping with butter and smeared with whatever kind of jam or honey he has hidden away in the supply wagon. Some bacon would be good too. Hell, I'd even eat some of that stew of his. Uck, now I'm just making myself hungrier.

Just refused some food that Kiowa woman offered me. Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Maybe it's the hungrier and concussion, I'm starting to sound like that fool next to me.

I glance over at Rowdy, who looks just as miserable and even more uncomfortable than me. Stupid kid, if he hadn't tried escaping earlier they wouldn't have tied him up in that awful position in the first place. Not that my arms aren't getting sore being tied behind my back for so long.

We've been prisoner here for a few days now. My Kiowa isn't so good anymore, but from what I was able to catch, they're using us as leverage against Mr. Favor so he'll transport their chief to safety. When I told Rowdy that information I'm not sure if he was angrier with the tribe or the boss for letting himself be manipulated. I guess I don't blame him much; I'm not too crazy about the idea of the boss sticking out his neck because I let myself get snuck up on.

I wish there was a way out of here, some way I could get out of these ropes, out of this camp with Rowdy, and help the boss. But I know there isn't. I know if I tried, that crazy Anko would cut me down without thought. Now I just need to keep Rowdy from mouthing off. The boss would kill me if I let the fool get sliced up by some war-crazed Indian.

Damn I'm hungry. Wish something would happen, well, I take that back. I want something good to happen. Things seem to have taken a turn for the worse, I think Anko declared himself chief. Don't want to admit I'm scared, but I am.

I hope the boss gets here soon; I'm not sure how long we have before our luck runs out.   
  
  
  
  



	2. Default Chapter Title

"Stroke of Luck"   
by Greywolf Lupous

_Disclaimer: _Rawhide _characters, situations, and, uh, the Rawhide-ish kinda stuff, belong to who? CBS, Viacom… I dunno. But they don't belong to me! Though at times I wish they did… but they don't… so, uh, don't sue me, kay? ^_^;;;_

_Spoilers: Some for "Incident at Black Pass"_

_Authors Notes: Like "Biscuits", really short, no plot. Just idle ramblings. ^^;;_   


I'm cursed.

I've decided that must be it. There's no other explanation for how I wind up in these situations. Right now for example I'm halfway propped up on the ground, my arms stretched across something resemblin' a cooking spit. My arms have gone numb; I can't really move my fingers.

I think I hear Pete's stomach growling. That or some kind of weird unknown prairie creature about to attack the Kiowa camp. That might be an interestin' sight – that Anko jasper running around with some monster at his heels.

It's not that I hate him; it's just that I'm not fond of anyone tryin' to run a knife through my throat 'cause he don't want my condolences. I wish I could break free of these ropes, maybe show that Indian that he ain't so tough. I probably shouldn't though; I'm trussed up like this 'cause I tried something similar. I wouldn't want Pete to fuss at me anymore neither. He can be more of a mother hen than the boss when he wants to.

The boss… why hadn't he fought? Well, I know why, he won't admit it, but he won't let anything happen to his men if he can help it. But still, Pete and I aren't so important he needs to get into a mess with the army. And the herd takes priority, or that's what he's always tellin' me.

I think I picked up some bad luck charm in San Antonio or somethin'. I mean, if I so much set foot away from the herd I'm either bein' hunted down by conspirators against the army, the army itself, or bein' drug off by the nearest Indian tribe. Yeah, I must've pissed off a shaman or somethin' by accident, because only I seem to run across this kind of trouble. I can only imagine what the boss would think of that statement.

I wonder what he's doin' right now. Probably worrying his head off. He better not get into any kind of trouble with the army, I'd hate to have to go and rescue him again. Yeah, just let me get these ropes off, I'll show 'em Kiowas a thing or two about messin' with the Favor outfit, then I'll go and save Mr. Favor from anything he's gettin' into.   
  
  
  
  



	3. Default Chapter Title

"Just a Man"   
by Greywolf Lupous

  
  
  
  


_Disclaimer: _Rawhide _characters, situations, and, uh, the Rawhide-ish kinda stuff, belong to who? CBS, Viacom… I dunno. But they don't belong to me! Though at times I wish they did… but they don't… so, uh, don't sue me, kay? ^_^;;;_

_Spoilers: Some for "Incident at Black Pass"_

_Authors Notes: Even shorter than the other ones (in case you didn't notice), the last in this teeny series._   


If Rowdy gets himself killed by mouthing off, I'll fire him… after I shoot that blood lusting brave of course.

I'm not worried. I just can't afford to find another scout or ramrod. It's not that I'm afraid that when I reach the camp it'll be too late. And it's just the stew that Wishbone this morning that makes my stomach flip-flop and not the thought of that fool getting himself hurt or worse with that hot-headed temper of his. And it's just a sudden cold wind making me shiver whenever I think that I won't share another scouting expedition with Pete again.

I'm trying not to think about how the tribe might react as they see me pull their dead chief off of the horse he's draped on. I'm trying not to dwell on the fact that I have no words in which to give the tribe insight into their chief's decision. I'm just a man taking a ride.

I'm really not worried.

It's not my concern what happens to them. I'd do the same for any of my men, after all, I can't push this herd myself. I'm not doing this because I'd miss that fool kid's antics, or those companionable silences with Pete after supper. It's not like my life would feel as empty as it did after my wife died.

I'm just a man, heading to just another destination.

And I'm not worried. I'm really not.   
  
  
  



End file.
